


The World Still Spins

by mikaylalwrites



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hanukkah, Jewish Holidays, Not Canon Compliant, ft. klaus complaining, ft. violet's amazing inventing, jewish baudelaires, not completely anyway, set in the vile village
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:37:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21930490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikaylalwrites/pseuds/mikaylalwrites
Summary: The Baudelaires' first chanukah since the death of their parents.
Relationships: (mentioned) - Relationship, Violet Baudelaire/Isadora Quagmire
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	The World Still Spins

The Village of Foul Devotees hadn’t bothered the Baudelaires as much as they expected it to. Count Olaf they could deal with, after all, he’d been on their tail for months. There were bigger things to worry about. The Quagmires, particularly Isadora, hadn’t left Violet’s mind since Count Olaf stole them away. No one had heard from them since. Violet’s mind had been so preoccupied with finding Duncan and Isadora that Chanukkah had snuck on her. She stopped her broom in the center of the porch she’d been sweeping and sighed. She knew it would be difficult to celebrate here. Even without the ban on books, Violet doubted anyone had Jewish scripture lying around. Perhaps she should ask Hector, she’d have the most luck with him. Or at least she hoped so. Violet wondered where she would get a kosher menorah. Maybe someone had some candles or tea lights. Worst case scenario, she would have to make some tea lights herself. She could handle that. 

Before she thought too long on a quick recipe for homemade tea lights, she searched Hector’s mobile balloon home for any sort of Jewish scripture. While she searched, the door creaked open. Violet panicked and ducked behind several copies of cookbooks. She fought the urge to peer over them to catch a look at who walked in. She hoped it wasn’t one of the elders. The person crouched down and picked something off the ground. Violet risked a glance at the object. It was a purple ribbon. Not daring to breathe, she searched her pockets. Her ribbon was gone. The person stood up and looked directly at her. 

“Violet,” he said carefully. It was only Klaus. “What are you doing?” 

She took a cookbook from the pile. “Looking for tea lights and a recipe for latkes.” 

“Why?” Klaus frowned. 

“Chanukah begins tomorrow,” said Violet. “I want to celebrate.” 

“Without mother and father?” 

“They would want us to,” Violet said. It would be their first Chanukah without the Baudelaire parents. It would be difficult but they could do it. 

“It won’t be the same,” Klaus complained. “Father won’t be here to light the menorah.” 

“You can,” Violet offered. “I was hoping Hector might have some tea lights. Otherwise, I might be able to make some.” 

“We don’t know how to make anything except ceviche and pasta puttanesca. You burnt toast.” 

“Klaus, work with me here. If we do this together, it’ll be fine.” 

“There won’t be any gelt and we can’t rest. We’re to do the town’s chores.” 

“The Almighty will understand. He sees us and understands,” Violet assured him. 

“It just won’t be the same without them, Violet.” 

“You’re right,” she said. “It won’t be the same. It will be messy and makeshift but we’ll have done it together.” 

Klaus walked out without another word. Violet sighed and hoped he would come around by the next morning. Until then, planning their first Chanukah alone would be up Violet. She skimmed each of the cookbooks for foods fried in oils. Even if she did not find latkes in particular, she was determined to find something. And then she would worry about the tea lights, prayers, and the game of dreidel. 

The cookbooks had plenty of fried foods in them, including a recipe for latkes. She was thankful for Hector keeping all of these banned books in one place. It turned out, however, that there wasn’t any sort of scripture amongst the books. Violet would have to recall them and try her best to help Klaus and Sunny. As Violet had surmised, Hector did not have a dreidel and didn’t have any tea lights. She tied her hair with her ribbon and prepared to make her own. 

“Hector,” she called, hurrying into the house. “Do you have any oil and some pliable metal?” 

“Yes and yes,” replied Hector. “Why?” 

“Tea lights,” said Violet. “Do you have a wick?” 

“No but I’m sure I could ask around for one.” 

Violet located the oil from the cabinet, bits of metal left over from Hector’s mobile home, and supplies for a homemade wick. She put the oil in the freezer to solidify and began work on the tea light holders. She took the metal and a pair of pliers and pulled on the edges of the metal. Once they were in the desired shape, she found a poker and heated it.   
“Whoa, whoa!” shouted Hector. “What are you doing with that?” 

“Wielding,” Violet replied. “Sort of.” 

“Will it work?” 

“If the metal is hot enough it should.” 

Violet carefully touched the poker to the tea light holder. She grinned as the metal melted together. She reheated the poker and repeated the action with the rest of the holders as Hector watched in awe. 

“You are really a remarkable kid.” 

Violet grinned and said quietly, “Thank you.” 

Violet figured the oil wasn’t solid enough for candles and thumbed through one of the cookbooks. She grabbed Sunny to help her taste test.   
“It’s going to smell like canola oil for all eight days of Chanukah but it’ll have to do.” 

“Is that what you’re doing this all for?” asked Hector. “You’re Jewish?” 

“Yes,” she said. “Practicing and by heritage.”

“Do you need any help?” 

Violet raised an eyebrow. “Do you know how to make latkes?” 

“No,” Hector said. “But I can try.” 

“Klaus is struggling with this,” Violet sighed. “I don’t blame him but we have to keep going. We have to live and not just exist.” 

Hector gave her a small smile. “You’ve had to grow up too fast, Violet.” 

Violet faltered. “I don’t want to disappoint my parents. I wish they were here and I wish Isadora was here and…I want things to be normal again.” 

She blinked away tears and returned to her potatoes. Klaus stood in the doorway. 

“Violet,” he said. “I’m sorry. I never knew how burned you felt and I’ve been acting childish.” 

“No, you’ve been acting like a kid whose parents just died,” Violet. “It’s okay to be angry.” 

“Can I help?” he asked. “And I want to light the tea-light-menorah-thing.” 

“Thank you. I have some wicks to make.”

Violet located an old shirt and pulled the strands of cotton from it. She wound the strands together until they were thick enough to light. She hoped the oil had enough time to solidify slightly and that the freezer was cold enough in the first place. When she opened the freezer, she noticed that the oil was not solid just yet but it was starting to cloud --- a good sign of future solidification. She carefully dipped her wicks into the oil and left them to freeze. She wondered if they’d be able to play dreidel at all. She wasn’t a wood carver and she couldn’t mold clay or plastic either. She left that worry for later and waited for the oil to freeze. 

The next morning, the Baudelaires helped each other to pray and recite the _Hallel._ Sunny mostly babbled when Violet and Klaus spoke. After that, they went to eat breakfast with Hector. 

“Ms. Aarons would like to know if it’s okay if her kids come to play dreidel with you,” Hector said between bites of eggs. 

“We don’t have a-” Violet began. 

“Ms. Aarons has a quite lovely wood one.” 

Violet’s eyes widen. “Really?” She looked to Klaus and Sunny. Kids like them and their age? The Baudelaires couldn’t be more happy at the idea. “We’d love it.” 

“I’ll tell her.” 

The Baudelaires were giddy all through the day. Klaus could hardly keep his hand steady while lighting the tea-light-menorah. Ms. Aarons and her children arrived immediately after. She had two: a girl named Sabine and a boy, Tomas. Sabine, the eldest, clicked easily with Klaus over a love of books. She talked non-stop about historical journals she’d read. Tomas was a year younger than Klaus and quiet. He liked playing with Sunny. Before the group played, Ms. Aarons requested they sing Maoz Tzur, a traditional Chanukah song. Klaus and Violet happily obliged, remembering how beautifully their mother and father sang it when they were little. Violet silently hoped they were pleased with her, wherever they were. They then sat to play dreidel. 

They each took turns spinning the dreidel to decide who would go first. Sabine went first and the dreidel landed on _shin._ Klaus’s spin landed on _gimmel._ Violet’s spin landed on _shin_ and Tomas’s spin landed on _hey._ Each of them put in a penny, brought by Ms. Aarons. Klaus spun the dreidel and frowned. 

_“Shin,”_ he said sourly, placing a penny into the pot. Tomas went next and sighed when it dreidel landed on _nun._ Violet politely allowed Sabine to go next. It landed on _hey_ and Sabine took in half the pot. Violet went last; the dreidel landed on _nun._ They played for several more rounds. Sabine ended the game with the most pennies. Ms. Aarons noticed the late hour and went to leave. Violet and Klaus hugged their new friends. Ms. Aarons reached into her purse at the last second. 

“I nearly forgot,” she said, pulling out three envelopes. “Chanukah gelt for each of you.” 

Violet raised a hand and shook her head. “Thank you but we can’t accept it.” 

“Take it,” Ms. Aarons said. “As a gift and as a condolence for your struggles this year.”   
Klaus and Violet each took their envelopes and Sunny’s. 

“I truly hope that the Village of Foul Devotees isn’t yout home for an extended period,” she said. “I hope a loving family, without a ban on books, takes you in.” 

“Thank you,” Klaus said. “Truly.” 

“Have a good night and Happy Chanukah, Baudelaires.”

**Author's Note:**

> I put so much work into this and I hope it turned out well. 
> 
> Please leave kudos/comment if you liked it. Leave a (constructive) comment if you didn't like it.


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